


home is where the heart is

by mintakas



Series: intrepid hearts [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Blind Ignis Scientia, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, ignis and gladio being the big gay dorks they are, post chapter nine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24296257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintakas/pseuds/mintakas
Summary: “How do I look today?”Ignis feels across the sharp edges of Gladio’s jaw, up and across his eyelids, along the inward curve of his nose and then over the round swell of his lips.Gladio hums; it was another thing Ignis enjoyed doing.Theirthing.“Beautiful.”
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Series: intrepid hearts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042911
Comments: 22
Kudos: 92





	home is where the heart is

**Author's Note:**

> oh wow look another word dump of me writing soft gladnis trash. how in character of me
> 
> anyways i have literally nothing else to do during this lockdown so here we go enjoy ig. this doesnt follow what canonically happens after chapter 9 so this is basically set between 9 and 10 for my own selfish reasons 
> 
> also A+ for anyone who gets the come dine with me reference lmaoo

Gladio has been watching Ignis sleep ever since his brush with Ardyn. He thought no one else knew but last night had caught Prompto staring at him staring at Iggy from across the tent. It’s not an all night thing, obviously – Gladio needed to sleep too. It’s just that for the first few hours, there was this primal need to watch over him, even for just a while. He knows Ignis would find it ridiculous, and so hopes Prompto can keep it to himself.

They’ve all been watching Ignis, really. Treat him like a loaded gun, most days, which Gladio knows Ignis finds infuriating but admires the way he handles it; in his stride, as with everything else. 

The general mood of their retinue has been dull, since it happened. They already knew that they relied on Ignis more than they probably should have done. In many ways he’d seemed almost untouchable – he was too smart, too quick witted, too infallible. The reality check leaves them all reeling, desperately trying to rebuild their stronghold but seeming to always find that the pieces don’t quite fit together anymore. 

It leaves a bitter taste on Gladio’s tongue even on the nights that Ignis makes it his personal mission to lick it right out of his mouth.

He tells them all to _stop fussing._ He’s “blind, not a child, for Heavens sake”, and Gladio shoots a look to Prompto, who sends it across to Noct where it dies. Noct spends a lot of his time with his head in his hands, and Gladio thinks that maybe he can’t bear to look at Ignis anymore. Wonders if it aches in the same parts for him, all the way deep inside, and then back out towards the tips of his fingers, unyielding. _Guilty_ , for some reason that doesn’t quite stick. 

Ignis feels too much like a martyr and it makes Gladio sick. 

It never should have been him.

(It never should have been any of them, but. 

Just not _him_.)

*

Gladio finds Ignis to be even more tenacious than before. He’s always been headstrong, sure – but now Ignis has learned to curl himself around Gladio like a vice, whisper gentle nothings into his ear that leave him with absolutely no choice than to pull him outside the tent and make him forget just about everything other than Gladio’s name.

He wonders if the others know. Fucking _dare_ them to ask, he’d tell it how it is. He’s sure that he’d caught Noct staring just a little too long at Gladio’s hand on the small of Ignis’ back yesterday morning, but he’d looked away when Gladio had just ogled him in return.

He wants to gather Ignis up and hide him, which drives him insane, because it’s so _irrational._

He loves him so much that it makes him feel fuzzy, blurs the edges of his vision. 

“It’s merely a question of when,” Ignis had told them. As in, it’s question of _when_ , not _if_ he’ll get better at the whole not being able to see thing. “These things take time and patience, and I have both.” He’s already figured out exactly who’s there based on the sound of their footsteps alone, although he says it wasn’t exactly difficult because Gladio “has about as much grace as a reversing dump truck without any tyres on.” (Ignis’ mouth had tipped up in a half-smirk as he said it and it sets off butterflies in Gladio’s stomach.) When he’d described Noct as having the lightest footsteps of the bunch, like he were on “permanent stealth mode”, Gladio had looked to Noct for some sort of response, only to find him staring off into the fire pit. Ensue: a really awkward post dinner conversation. 

“It’s fuckin’ rude to ignore people when they’re talking to you,” Gladio had sneered, angrily poking the fire as if to punctuate his point. 

“ _Gladio_.” 

Ignis’ warning had fallen on deaf ears, though, and Gladio’s unleashing a verbal assault, like something had finally snapped. “Hey, Noct? You might not wanna laugh with us but the least you could do is thank the man who just slaved over making your fuckin’ dinner.”

Gladio hadn’t been wrong – Ignis had cooked for them the first night, determined to cook _something_ , and whilst it had taken much longer than it usually would, the point is that he’d done it. Might not have been the gourmet meals he’d usually cook but he managed. _Blind._

Noct, though, had seemed too lost to even register that Gladio was angry at him. He’d merely stood up, threw a “thank you, Ignis”, over his shoulder before he disappeared into the tent, leaving the rest of them suffering something akin to severe turbulence. Gladio had felt pretty horrible about the whole thing, but as pride would have it, he says nothing. 

Gladio finds his moments of respite come when he has Ignis falling apart and panting in his lap. It’s past midnight and they’ve snuck out to the Regalia, parked some ways past the hill (it had taken almost zero effort on Ignis’ part, hand sneaking dangerously low on Gladio’s stomach as the other two had slept) and now Gladio sinks his teeth in to Ignis’ shoulder to stop himself from crying out. 

“Mmm, fuck, that’s it. That’s perfect.”

Ignis is _sinful_ in the way he goads Gladio on, the lechery sounding even more depraved in his thick accent. Gladio fucking loves it when Ignis curses – loves the way it’s reserved only for him, for when they’re like this. It drives Gladio loopy and he licks up Ignis’s throat as the younger man draws back up, torturously slow, and if he carries on like this then Gladio’s not sure how long he’s going to last.

He sinks back down in a way that has Gladio dropping his head back against the seat, hissing as Ignis digs his finger nails harder into the flesh at his lovers’ back. 

Ignis is a picture – beautifully slender, pale skin that seemed to go on forever, mussed hair, the echo of a strangled moan on his lips. Gladio leans up to kiss him, tongue running appreciatively over the scar on his mouth, and Ignis keens, hands coming up to cup Gladio’s face. He makes everything a fucking performance, and Gladio is elated to find himself the spectator. 

“Ready, angel?” Gladio breathes against his mouth, and Ignis nods the affirmative. 

“You’d better take over soon or else I’m going to come like this.” 

Gladio is a behemoth of a man, he knows – and it’s times like this that it works to his advantage. He places his hands on Ignis’ hips, starts to move him up and down, building a pace that has him seeing stars. Ignis is wonderful, as usual, takes all of Gladio so well, and Gladio decides to show him how proud he is by wrapping a hand around his cock, pumping him only a few times before Ignis is coming in thick, hot bursts – and Gladio catches his mouth once more, kisses him through it, runs a finger over his closed eye. 

“I wish you could see yourself,” Gladio whispers, before he too is coming, shaking from the force of it, white light blooming in the corners of his vision. Ignis has gone limp in his arms and Gladio strokes his back with one hand, holds his face in the other and litters butterfly soft kisses over his skin. 

“Even better – I see _you_ ,” Ignis murmurs. “I see you in my minds eye, and I must say: the view is simply stunning.” 

It’s times like these that Gladio is sure he’d tear apart the entire world to love this man.

*

When daybreak announces itself the following morning, Gladio rather wishes that it hadn’t. It was their last rest day before they had to continue on to Cartanica tomorrow (three days had seemed a little overboard but he’d insisted to Noct and Ignis that they needed the break in particular – gather their strength, recuperate. The camping part was, funnily enough, Prompto’s idea. Gladio thinks that it was a desperate attempt to remind them of simpler times. The notion itself is so innocent and so very Prompto that it makes Gladio’s heart swell.)

In fact, it’s Prompto who corners him as he’s sat with his legs dangling from the pier (they’d chosen this spot for this very reason – the scenery by the water was beautiful) and he’s got this determined look on his face that Gladio knows to mean he’s just about fit to burst. 

Noct is helping Ignis prepare breakfast back by the campsite and the whole scene is pretty hilarious – Ignis is barking directions and has Noct bending to his will like a trained dog. Gladio rather thinks it might be his way of an apology. 

Prompto plops down next to him, leaning back on his hands. Gladio feels his eyes boring into him like lasers. 

“If you came over to say something, Prom, just spit it out already. You’re setting my teeth on edge.” 

Prompto swings his legs and shuffles closer. “I saw you watching him again last night,” he tells him, leaning in close enough that his breath falls hot against Gladio’s ear. 

“Fuckin’ Six, Prompt – back it up. They aren’t gonna hear you.” He’s teasing, of course, and Prompto rolls his eyes, nudges away only a fraction. “And mind ya business. Not like I haven’t caught you staring at Noct before, but I don’t bring it up, do I?” 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of! I just thought you might wanna talk about it. But if you don’t, that’s cool too.” It’s not lost on Gladio how he skims straight past the mention of Noct, and Gladio smirks at the sea. 

He’s sighing, then, rubbing tiredly at the back of his neck. “It’s – it’s stupid. It’s just stupid, that’s why I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

“It’s _not_ stupid, Gladio,” Prompto reassures. “He almost died, I get it. You’re scared, huh?” 

Gladio breathes out hard through his nose. “Yeah, Prompto, I am. For all of us. And I’m annoyed at myself.” He hesitates, and huffs when Prompto nods, an indication for him to continue. “I’m annoyed for being mad at Noct. I know it’s not his fault, I just can’t seem to help getting pissed off when I see him moping and then I look over at Iggy struggling to find his fuckin’ chair.” 

Prompto nods, eyes glazing over out at the sea as though he were far away. “Love can make you crazy,” he muses. Gladio eyes Prompto suspiciously. He’d never given any public indication of his feelings toward Ignis. It was for them; private. Perhaps Prompto is more perceptive than Gladio had ever given him credit for. Eventually, he seems to zone back in, shaking his head and sighing resolutely. “But you’re right, y’know? It’s _not_ Noct’s fault. I don’t think he’s coping so great right now, either. Could probably do with us all banding together a bit more, like old times.” Prompto pauses to skim a loose stone against the water. “I can’t imagine having the weight of the world on my shoulders.” 

“Did you come over just to run interference for Noct?” Gladio cocks an eyebrow at him, clicks his tongue. Prompto gives him this knowing look and this time it’s Gladio who picks up a stone, lost in how the thing breaks the water’s surface every time just to bounce back up again, before finally disappearing out of view. “I’m just kidding,” he breathes, defeated. “I get it.” 

Prompto hesitates, scratching away at the pier with his thumbnail. “You sure, big guy? It’s just… I don’t want us all to carry on at each others throats. Especially if…” he trails off, sadly, stares out across the body of water as though there he might find the words he was looking for. “Especially if, y’know –,” Gladio cuts him off, places a hand on his shoulder. Knows exactly what he’s gearing up to say and doesn’t think he can bear to face it, just yet. 

“I said I get it, Prompto. You ain’t gotta worry.” 

Prompto smiles at him, and in-spite of himself, Gladio smiles right back. Prompto seems to feel that his job here is done, rubs his hands together menacingly. “Alright, I’m gonna go watch the absolute shit show that is Iggy trying to get Noct to cook.” He jumps up, and is making to run off when Gladio calls after him. 

“Yeah, big guy?”

“Tell him how you feel already, okay? The pining is making me sick.” Gladio makes a show of it, sticking his fingers into his mouth and pretending to gag. 

Prompto just shakes his head and rolls his eyes, and leaves Gladio sat there to watch the way the water bends and glistens beneath the morning sun.

*

Somewhen around the middle of the afternoon, Prompto and Noct have decided to go fishing, so Gladio spots a well timed opportunity. Ignis is sat quietly, and Gladio creeps up from behind him, trying to adopt the _stealth mode_ that Ignis had been talking about.

It’s no use, though. He thinks he’s being perfectly silent, until Ignis sighs. “I know you’re there, Gladio.” 

Gladio slumps, drapes his arms around Ignis’ shoulders from behind. “How?” 

Ignis snorts, pets the the side of his face affectionately. “You, my love, are anything but discreet.” 

Gladio slides a hand down and over Ignis’ throat, tipping his head up to look at him. “You kill me.” 

“And yet there you stand.” 

Smiling, Gladio kisses Ignis’ forehead and lets him go, moving around the chair to crouch between his legs. “What’re you doing?” he asks, humming into the fingers that stroke fondly down his cheek. 

“Thinking.”

Gladio plucks up Ignis’ hand, lays it in the man’s own lap, palm up. Starts to draw little patterns into the skin because he knows Ignis likes to guess the picture. (He’s getting scarily good at it, in fact). 

“You need to stop doing so much of that. Might burn yourself out.” 

Ignis lets his eye fall shut in response to the light tickling across his skin, tilts his head to rest upon his closed knuckle. “A boat?” he guesses, and Gladio sighs. He “rubs out” the image (hey, it’s habit), and proceeds to draw something new. “I was thinking that perhaps we ought to tell them.” 

Gladio snorts. “Why? They don’t tell us anything.” 

“Then we should bridge the gap.” 

Gladio is half way through drawing a fish into Ignis’ palm when Ignis guesses it correctly. “ _Goddamit_ ,” Gladio huffs. “What’s got you thinking that, anyway?” 

Ignis blinks, doesn’t answer straight away. Gladio can almost see the cogs turning, picking his words out carefully. Begins a new picture, even though it’s pointless – it’s always best of three so Ignis has already won. “I don’t want there to be anything left unsaid.”

Gladio stops. “Iggy –,” 

“ – We owe it to each other to be honest, do we not?” 

The fact that Prompto had been thinking about it that morning, and now _Ignis_ – Gladio shuts his eyes, shakes his head vehemently. “That’s – look, if you wanna tell them, fine, but just – just don’t let it be because you’re scared some of us might die.” 

“Oh, love.” Ignis leans forward, takes Gladio’s face in his hands. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to upset you.” He kisses into Gladio’s hair. “Was the last one a car?”

Gladio huffs a laugh. “You know it was.” 

“Perhaps I guess them so easily because you draw them so well.” _Oh, Gods_ , thinks Gladio. He couldn’t love this man more if he tried. “I’m not worried, as such. I just think it wise to prepare for all eventualities.”

Gladio feels deflated. Ignis knows, even thought he can’t see his face, and so he gently feels across the sharp edges of Gladio’s jaw, up and across his eyelids, along the inward curve of his nose and then over the round swell of his lips. 

Gladio hums; it was another thing Ignis enjoyed doing. _Their_ thing. “How do I look today?”

“Beautiful.”

Despite the way Gladio glows, there’s a knot right at the pit of his stomach. Ignis’ deft hands and gentle words seem to be enough to dissuade it, for now, and at some point Gladio had suggested fooling around right there in the middle of the campsite, and Ignis had been somewhat resistant to the idea – _“you know Noct and Prompto could return at any moment,”_ – but the thought of getting caught only spurs Gladio on. It takes but a few conveniently placed kisses before he has the man bucking his hips up and into his mouth. Ignis is Gladio’s favourite flavour, and he chases the taste until Ignis is mewling, spilling hot and heavy onto his tongue, telling Gladio over and over that he loves him he loves him he _loves_ him.

*

Now, with the backdrop of the sun setting over the horizon, and with Ignis stoking the fire, Prompto leans back in his camping chair and sighs.

“Everything’s about to change, isn’t it?” he muses, folding his arms behind his head. 

“The point of no return, as they say,” chimes Ignis. 

“I think we crossed the point of no return the moment we left Insomnia.” 

They all look up, at that – Noct hadn’t really said much for the duration of dinner, and now he sags under the weight of their collective gaze. “I’m just saying, y’know.” He waves a hand in front of him. “Sorry you all got dragged into this.”

It’s been simmering for a while, Gladio can tell. It’s about as much of an apology that Noctis seems to be capable of right now, but it carries the weight of something much bigger. He suddenly feels _very_ guilty under the crushing reality that Noctis really didn’t have anything to apologise for. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, dude – this is how it’s meant to be. The four of us, y’know?” 

Prompto has this unrelenting ability to cast light upon everything he touches. It makes Gladio bristle with pride. 

“Indeed,” adds Ignis. “We never would have had it any other way. Not a single part.” He leans in, when he says the last bit, directing his attention solely at Noct. 

Noct squeezes his eyes shut and drags a hand down his face. 

“I know. You guys are great.” 

A warm silence comes to settle over them and it’s perhaps the first comfortable silence they’ve shared since everything went wrong.

“Well, since we’re being candid –,” 

Gladio shoots a look over at Prompto. 

“ – I thought it might be time for me and Noct to tell you that we – um, well, we –,”

Noct is reeling, apparently, tripping over his own words in a way that makes Ignis smile. “Uhh, Prompto? What are you doing?” 

“Come on, Noct, they deserve to know. It’s not like _they_ haven’t been at it for weeks now.” He flashes a wicked smirk over at Gladio and Ignis, and Gladio’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. 

Noct seems to hone in on that part. “Yeah, come on – you can’t actually think you were being sneaky.” 

Ignis pinches the bridge of his nose and then holds up a finger. “Now, just wait just a moment. Am I to understand that the two of you are an item?” 

“Am _I_ to understand that we’ve all been boning and trying to hide it from everyone else?” 

“Charming, Gladio.” Ignis rolls his eyes and Gladio winks at him. 

Prompto is practically bouncing in his chair. “Yeah, yeah, but – me and Noct knew you were up to something!” 

“It seems our efforts to be discreet were in vain, Gladio.” 

Noct snorts amusedly. “Been a long time coming for you two, innit?” 

“We could say the same for the two of you.”

There’s silence again, before the four of them erupt into laughter. It comes from deep inside their bellies, overzealous, _overdue_. Noctis is _smiling_ , for the first time in a long time, and Gladio can’t help but notice the way his friends seem to glow in the late evening sun, practically rubescent. Simmering quietly with the promise of hope – the promise of brighter days to come. 

Happy, just to be together.

No matter how long they had.


End file.
